Chapter 1 #2
My brother was born with a hole in his heart and a name too strong for his diagnosis.
His name meant lord—a name meant for warriors, and that’s exactly what he was.
Kyrin had survived multiple surgeries, feeding tubes, hospital beds, and emergency runs that would’ve broken a grown man.
When it came to him, eating took energy; too much could stress his system, and too little could trigger something else.
His heart couldn’t afford the strain. Every time he so much as coughed too hard, I flinched, every fever sent me spiraling, and every late-night ER visit chipped another piece off my sanity.
Now we wait for someone else’s end to be his beginning. I hate how cruel that sounds, but I pray for it anyway.
“Girl, you know Kyrin’s favorite line is, ‘My heart might be a little weak, but I ain’t weak in the appetite.’ He damn near cleaned his plate and mine!”
A chuckle escaped me, light and short-lived, but needed. Lainey always knew how to lighten my load, even if it was for a second.
“Thanks, Lainey.”
“Always, babe! You know I love that boy like he’s mine.
” She crossed her arms, her voice growing more serious.
“But for real, Jo, you can’t keep running yourself into the ground like this.
Two jobs, school, and taking care of Kyrin while Vanessa’s out here living her best life?
Friend, you’re gonna break before the bills do. ”
Vanessa… our “so not dependable” mama.
That lady was the type to post Bible quotes on Sunday morning, then disappear by night with a new man and a different wig.
She was good at birthing us, not so much raising us.
Meanwhile, I was the one sitting at hospitals, holding Kyrin’s hand through another round of blood work, studying between night shifts, and watching his chest rise and fall every night, terrified that one day it might not.
From changing feeding tubes to memorizing medication schedules, it was always me.
I kept trying to make excuses for her, hoping maybe one day she’d show up and be the mama Kyrin truly needed.
I straightened up, looking at Lainey intently.
“Then so be it. Lainey, I’m not letting him go without; I don’t care what it takes.
I’ll work doubles, sleep three hours a night, hell, eat noodles for weeks.
As long as he has what he needs, I’m okay without going with mine.
Besides, he’s already missed out on so much.
He can’t play sports, can’t overexert, can’t even get excited without his heart rhythm skipping.
I see it in his face when other kids run, laugh, and wrestle.
And I see it in his eyes when he acts like it doesn’t bother him.
” I blinked away tears. “But it bothers me. It kills me every damn day.”
I didn’t always feel present. Some days blurred, but I never lost sight of what mattered. I refused to let my brother fall through the cracks.
Lainey didn’t push it. She knew me too well to argue, but that didn’t stop the ache in her stare.
“I’m going to get Kyrin,” I said, pushing myself up from the couch, my limbs tired but my love for that little boy always stronger than my exhaustion.
When I opened the door, a soft hush wrapped around me. Kyrin was sprawled out on the bed under a navy fleece blanket, mouth slightly open, and his wild curls stretched out over the pillow. The video game controller was still clutched in one hand, like he’d fallen asleep mid-battle.
My brother looked so normal… so peaceful…
so healthy. Most days, he was so full of life that it scared me.
No one would’ve guessed that the same little boy lying there had a heart condition that doctors said he might not outgrow without a transplant, that his energy came in borrowed doses, that sometimes his laughter was followed by gasps, or that his playtime ended with a quiet cry he didn’t want me to hear.
I bent down slowly and kissed the top of his head, my lips lingering there longer than they needed to.
Kyrin stirred, wiggling under the blanket, then peeked one eye open. “Jo?” he asked, voice groggy and raspy from sleep.
“Yeah, sport. It’s me.” I smiled through the lump in my throat. “Time to go.”
He blinked harder this time, then slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.
“Mmm... okay,” he mumbled, then tossed the blanket back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
“You were knocked out, huh?” I teased, nudging him gently.
He grinned. “I was winning, though.”
I laughed lightly and ruffled his curls. “Of course you were.”
I handed him his shoes, watching as he tugged them on with slow, lazy movements. His little fingers struggled with the tongue of his sneaker for a second before he got it just right.
I could’ve helped. It would’ve taken me two seconds, but I didn’t.
I never tried to take his independence from him and he hated when I did.
Kyrin said it made him feel like a baby.
So most of the time, I let him do his thang, unless he asked me, or I knew he needed my assistance.
Even though he was moving slowly, I stayed right there, pretending not to notice the way he paused to catch his breath after each motion.
My heart broke a little every time, but I never let it show—at least not in front of him.
After he finally got his shoes and coat on, I grabbed his bookbag from the corner and set it beside him.
“You good?” I asked quietly, giving him room to tell me if he wasn’t.
He nodded, yawning again. “Yeah, I’m cool.”
Kyrin slung his backpack over one shoulder, then remembered the game was still on. He carefully pressed the power button on the console, and it clicked off.
“Ready,” he said, then reached for my hand like I was his anchor… and maybe I was.
And I’d hold on for as long as I had to… forever, if I could.
“We’re about to head home, boo,” I announced to Lainey as I reentered the living room.
Lainey hastily jumped up from the couch. “Oh—hold up! I gotta get your plate!”
Lainey dashed off into the kitchen, and Kyrin and I exchanged a look, both of us smirking. Seconds later, she returned with a plastic grocery bag knotted at the top, like it was sealed for transport across state lines.
“Here you go,” she offered, then cleared her throat. “And you can text me with my five-star rating and review.”
I grinned. “Oh, I’m leaving a whole Yelp essay, honey. 'Great service! Wonderful ambiance! Hostess had a smart mouth but cooked like my grandma used to!”
Lainey playfully rolled her eyes, waving me off with a proud little smirk. “Don’t play with me, Jo. You already know you’re gonna heat that plate up at midnight with happy tears in your eyes!”
She wasn’t wrong.
I chuckled. “And you know this, boo. But seriously, Lainey, I meant what I said earlier. Thank you for always showing up; you’re the only one who does.”
She pulled me into a hug I didn’t know I needed until I was in it.
Her voice was low, firm, and real. “Jo, you’re not wrong for loving him like this, but you gotta let people help sometimes. You’re strong, yeah, but even soldiers need rest. Don’t wait until you’re bleeding just to admit you’re hurt. Just remember you’re never alone… not while I’m breathing.”
I nodded.
Lainey pulled back, fanning her face from the tears threatening to spill. “Okay, go on home before I make y’all sleep here! I’ll text you tomorrow.”
She placed her hand on top of Kyrin’s head.
“See you later, my guy.”
“See you later, Lainey.”
I stepped out, pulling the door shut behind me, and Kyrin closer. My eyes immediately went to the spot where the two guys had been standing.
A quiet breath slipped out of me, relief settling in my chest.
They were gone.
Good.
After making sure Kyrin was secured in the car, I slid into the driver’s seat and shut the door, the familiar creak of my car greeting me like an old friend that had been through too much with me.
The moment I turned the key, the engine let out a slow, grinding groan as if it was debating if it felt like cooperating that night.
I tried again.
Another grunt.
Still nothing.
“Is everything okay, Jo?” Kyrin asked, his voice still soft and sleepy, but full of worry.
I glanced back at him, forcing the corners of my mouth upward into a smile. “Yeah, sport. It’s just the cold. You know how this car gets.”
I lightly tapping the dashboard like I was trying to coax it with love, but inside, my chest was tightening.
Come on, baby… don’t embarrass me tonight. I thought I could squeeze another year out of you. Just one more… please.
That car wasn’t just a way to get from point A to B; it was my lifeline.
I needed it to get Kyrin to appointments, to run errands, and both of my jobs, especially my second one, which was Uber.
If that car quit on me, my side hustle died with it, and I couldn’t afford for anything else to fall apart.
I turned the key again and held my breath.
The engine sputtered… sputtered again… then miraculously it roared to life with a shaky rumble, like it was coughing off its attitude.
“See?” I smiled at Kyrin and buckled up. “All it needed was a little encouragement… and maybe a threat or two.”
He laughed, eyes twinkling. “She almost didn’t make it.”
“Almost doesn’t count, bro. That’s why I keep jumper cables and Jesus on standby.”
Literally, I did.
“Tell it next time it won’t get no gas money if it keeps acting up.”
I giggled and tapped the wheel. “You heard the man. You act up again, you’re getting parked and replaced with a bus pass.”
“Or a scooter,” Kyrin added, laughing.
The car rattled as we pulled off, but I didn’t care.
For now, it’s moving, and I still have a way to make it all work… even if I’m running on fumes right alongside it.
????
Our house was only six blocks from Lainey’s, but it felt like miles.
The hallway light on our floor was out again, so I had to fumble with the keys in the dark.
Vanessa wasn’t home yet—not that I expected her to be; late nights were her specialty, bustling with her own world of commitments and escapism.
The apartment was small, with just two cramped bedrooms that barely held our lives together.
Despite the rough edges of our neighborhood, we probably had the nicest-looking spot on the block.
Spotless floors, thrifted furniture polished to shine, and hand-me-down curtains we made look like décor.
But that didn’t mean a damn thing when the rent was due, and you found yourself staring at a light bill, contemplating if this was the month you'd have to make the gut-wrenching choice between heat or a home.
Kyrin and I shared the bigger bedroom, where twin beds were pushed up against opposite walls, each bed representing a world of its own.
His side was a vibrant kaleidoscope of comic book posters and a vivid clash of superheroes in action plastered haphazardly across the walls, while mine was marked by the existence of towering stacks of well-worn textbooks.
I knelt beside his bed, tucking him in just like I always did, fluffing his pillow even though he never asked for it. I made sure the blanket was snugly pulled up to his chin, creating a little cocoon as if it would shield him from the worries of the world outside.
“Night, Jo,” he mumbled, eyelids drooping as he slipped further into slumber. But then his soft brown eyes blinked open again, a flicker of concern breaking through his drowsiness. “You okay?”
I froze.
That small question hit me harder than I expected.
He noticed.
I forced a smile and brushed my fingers through his hair. “Yeah, sport. I’m just tired from work. Don’t worry about little ol’ me.”
Kyrin stared a little longer than usual, those perceptive eyes searching for the truth beneath my words, like he didn’t fully believe the act I was putting on, then he nodded and rolled over.
I leaned down and kissed his forehead. “I love you.”
“Love you too.”
I sat there for a moment, silently telling myself, Something’s gotta give.
I was tired of pretending “I’m fine” was the truth, and tired of holding the world together with one hand and wiping tears with the other.
Tonight, I’ll just pray again, whispering silent hopes into the dark. Tomorrow, though, I’d have to rise and do it all over again.